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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29793879">Little Solider Boy (Come Marching Home)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/soleilas/pseuds/soleilas'>soleilas</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>And The Strings Have Yet to Be Cut [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Afterlife, Brothers, Comfort, Found Family, I know yall are hurting after today's stream so heres some comfort, Lmanburg, Platonic Relationships, SPOILERS FOR MARCH 1, Takes place after Tommy dies, this is how i'm coping ok, this is not what we meant when you said "you see you soon" Tommy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 16:42:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,028</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29793879</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/soleilas/pseuds/soleilas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Well, you're dead." Wilbur gave him a sad smile, "and when you came here, you spawned in the place that made you the happiest. I spawned here too, but Schlatt didn't. I suppose L'manburg never was a happy place for him. As far as I know, this world is infinite, but he has yet to reveal where he spawned in."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tommyinnit &amp; Wilbur Soot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>And The Strings Have Yet to Be Cut [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191545</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>89</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Little Solider Boy (Come Marching Home)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Well, how are we all doing? I am coping, please I just wanted a happy ending for Tommy. Although, I don't think that's the true ending for Tommy. Dream needs him.</p><p>This includes many headcanons of what I assume the afterlife on the Dream SMP is like, so take that in mind while reading. The title and idea of the story are based on Leaves From The Vine from the Avatar series. I think that song fits Tommy's character well, especially some of the fan-made longer versions out there.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Suddenly, it was easy to breathe again. For a moment, Tommy could still feel phantom fingers clutched around his throat and he panicked, but the moment was fleeting as he opened his eyes. </p><p>It was dark, not the dark of the obsidian boiling cell he died in, but the dark of a quiet night that he hadn't seen in years. It was peaceful, almost too tranquil, and Tommy was instantly on guard. He had been taught to be a soldier; he knew quiet meant the calm before the storm. </p><p>The sun began to rise somewhere beyond the horizon of trees, and it washed the area in a soft glow. It was beautiful and ethereal, something he hadn't noted in his surroundings before; he supposed death allowed for a different perspective. </p><p>Finally, he stood, trembling as he reached for the tree above him. His lungs burned as he moved, and his throat ached. Wilbur had the scars of his final death; Tommy wondered if he would be left with the bruised handprints around his neck like a crude and deadly necklace. At least they covered the arrow scar from his first death.</p><p>Looking around, he was certain he recognized the area. He was in a forest, oak and birch seemingly leading him in an almost hidden path, so he followed. He had nothing left to lose after all. </p><p>In the distance, far above the tree line, Tommy could spot a mixture of black and yellow. It decorated the trees, almost like a crown. His heart ached with familiarity, and so he pushed forwards with uncertainty. </p><p>Ghostbur had said there was nothing after death, and Tommy had heard other stories that were told hushed around a campfire, but the silent, unmoving beautiful trees didn't seem to fit any tale told about the afterlife. He was sure he wasn't in hell either; it was too perfect for that. </p><p>For a moment, he wondered if he had somehow lived and respawned somewhere else in the SMP, but the bruises that littered his body and his stilled heart proved otherwise. That and the sky hadn't been this blue since before Wilbur had arrived. Since then, there had always been a hint of smoke and unused gunpowder wherever he walked. It coated his skin and collected in his shoes. </p><p>It was clear here, peaceful and pure. </p><p>Tommy stumbled across a wooden path and his breath caught in his throat. Above him, a wall of polished black bricks and yellow wool stretched across his vision. </p><p>
  <em>Oh, no wonder it had looked so familiar. </em>
</p><p>He struggled to breathe as he stepped towards the entrance. This place had been his home for only a few moments on the server, especially in the way safe walls surrounded it, but it had been his home regardless. </p><p>"L'manburg," his voice cracked, unused and intimidated. </p><p>This was the L'manburg that had just won its independence; the proud flag above him was the only thing moving, and the walls still provided a sanctuary for bright revolutionaries. It had been the time Tommy looked back on the fondest, mostly after he had been exiled the first time. Perhaps, it reminded him of a time where things were more spirited, and corruption hadn't really sunk into any of them. </p><p>Thinking enough, Tommy could barely imagine a younger version of himself following after Wilbur or climbing the walls with Tubbo. It was hard to picture, though, that version had been lost with the last shards of his childhood. The server had no use for children, only soldiers, scapegoats, and martyrs. He should know that he played each role perfectly. </p><p>"I should have expected to find you here." The voice is familiar, heart-achingly so. </p><p>"I don't understand," he doesn't. Death wasn't supposed to feel like home, like Wilbur's hugs or Tubbo's laughs. </p><p>"Well, you're dead." Wilbur gave him a sad smile, "and when you came here, you spawned in the place that made you the happiest. I spawned here too, but Schlatt didn't. I suppose L'manburg never was a happy place for him. As far as I know, this world is infinite, but he has yet to reveal where he spawned in." </p><p>Was L'manburg the place that made Tommy the happiest? He did have his best memories there, but in the end, it had left him with just as much pain and heartbreak. He had sacrificed a lot for L'manburg; it seemed fitting that it was there for him in death. </p><p>His head hurt thinking about it, so instead, he moved on. Instead, he studied the soft but sad look in Wilbur's eyes. He still wore the clothes he had died in, even if they were free of blood and gunpowder. For a moment, Tommy could almost picture the carefree version of Wilbur in front of him, but he hasn't been able to trust Wilbur's smiles in a long time.</p><p>"How did you die?" Wilbur's words were kind, and his hands were gentle as he inspected the bruises on Tommy's neck. </p><p>At least, Tommy doesn't flinch, but it doesn't stop his breathing from picking up and his hands from trembling. He doesn't know if he'll be able to speak without breaking down. His mind is scarred, another trauma to add to the list, as he tried to put the pieces together. </p><p>Tommy trembled as he tried to calm his breathing. He waited for the harsh criticisms or sharp slap, but Wilbur only waited patiently. Right, Wilbur wasn't Dream, even if Tommy had been scared of him too. He supposed, deep down, Wilbur genuinely cared for him; he had his whole life. </p><p>"Dream," Tommy managed to gasp out, "he did it."</p><p>There's another blinding pressure at his throat, and he nearly falters as he explained. Tommy wondered that even if death if, Dream still had some semblance of control. Knowing Dream, he supposed it true. Even in the end, he needed control over the one person who defied him.</p><p>Tommy wondered if Wilbur had been able to piece together what happened. There's a pitiful look of understanding in Wilbur's eyes, and he opened his arms, and Tommy is tired enough to fall into them.</p><p>"Welcome home, Tommy."</p>
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